The Night of the Endless Essay
by PheonixFireBlack
Summary: [The Goonies] Cute litle ficlet. Slash. MouthMikey. They're 17, so it's not icky-weird or anything. lol. RR


Title - Night of the Endless Essay

By - PheonixFireBlack

Summary -

Category - The Goonies

Genre - General

Feedback - Please?

Critisism - Sure! I don't mind! giggles

_**Disclaimer - I do NOT own any recognizable characters within this fic.**_

Notes - Ok, so I wrote this over the week that I was grounded. No kidding, it too the whole week! I'm willing to bet that it took me the whole week for the following two reasons: 1.) It's my first Goonies fic and my first actual slash UNDERtone fic. No kidding! I never write undertone, it's slash, but then at the same time, it's no lemon or anything. 2.) I was reading The Catcher In The Rye and all. (Ya know, in case you can't tell and all. With all the "and all" and "No kidding" crap. lol.) Anyway, read on, dudes! Or...chicks! Or...YEAH!

LISTEN UP UNLESS YOU WANNA BE CONFUSED AS HELL! The following is my little key-chart-thingy since hates my formatting and stuff.

TEXT thoughts (which would normally be italicised) EX: Dammit. Why did I just say that? I'm such a moron!

TEXTmore text... strong stress meant on that word. (normally, TEXT would be bold and italicised.) EX: Oh. My. GOD! No WAY did that just happen!

Note - if the TEXT is just somewhere randomly, you would know that it wouldn't be thoughts, right? Ok. good. At least you aren't completely moronic. winks and glomps reader Just kiddin! That's all for this chart shit, by the way. wink wave Later!

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The Night of the Endless Essay  
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Michael Alexander Walsh sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. Why did Mr. Bryant want this essay by Friday? And more importantly, why in the hell did he have to get sick last Monday and miss the entire week of school? Mikey silently cursed whatever reason it was that God made him sick last week. Mikey threw his pen down and looked at the history book again, trying to gather his thoughts.

"...And that's about it. Yep, that's the plan. What'd ya think, Mikey?" Clark Jamison Devereaux asked after explaining, in detail, his plans after high school.

"I dunno..." Mikey mummbled quickly, trying to stay focused. He was surprised his friend had heard him since he had hardly been able to hear himself.

"You mean I just told you my plans for the next ten damn years and you don't know what you think about it all?" He didn't sound that happy at the moment. Of course, no one would be very happy when they had been telling their best friend their very detailed plans for the next ten years. Especially when it took about fifteen minutes shy of three whole hours to do it in.

_Just shut **up**, would you?_ Mikey thought to himself, picking the pen up and starting to write again.

"Well, are you even gonna say anything?" Mouth asked, standing up now.

Mikey rolled his eyes and threw his pen down again, this time not out of frustration but out of anger. He turned to face his friend, looking Mouth straight in the eyes. "I've got one thing to say to you." He said quietly, holding up a finger for a little bit of emphasis.

Mouth raised his eyebrows, "And what's that?" The statement seemed to at least perk the boys interest a little.

With the sharpest tone he could manage, Mikey damn near shouted, "Shut **_up_**, Clark!" With that, and quite possibly the worst glare anyone had ever received from Michael Walsh, he turned back to his essay.

Clark frowned in confusion and fell back onto the bed in a sitting position. He crossed his legs, Indian-style, and bit down on his lower lip. "You **_that_** mad at me, Mikey?" Mouth asked quietly, playing with the blanket on the bed. He only looked up when he heard his friend's voice.

Mikey sighed silently and mentally kicked himself. "No, it's not like that, I just..." Then something caught his attention and he backed up a little bit, "Wait...how would you know how mad I was at you?" For this, Mikey turned around again, pen straight in his mouth.

_That's just a **little**_ _kinky, eh, Mikey?_ Clark's thoughts didn't get far before he imediately snapped into his "I'm cool" act. He sat up a little more, though it wasn't much, and shrugged nonchalantly, "Ah, it's nothin', just...I mean, I know it's stupid that I notice stuff like this, but...uh..." He didn't even seem to realize he'd gone from "Mr. Cool from Cool Town" to "Babbling Idiot from Babble Town." It wasn't surprising that he didn't notice though. Clark never really noticed when he snapped into his nervous, rambling mode.

Clark may not have noticed, but Mikey did and he smirked at it. "Just say it, man."

"I-It's just...you--you don't..." He was waving his hands around a lot. That was another nervous habit of his. And he could damn near fight off about six Ninjas or something just by all of his nervous hand movements. "You don't usually call me Clark unless..." He managed to hesitate a mere moment longer, but the next words that came from his mouth came out in a really quick rush. "Unless you're **_really_** made at me." Mouth's dark eyes instantly fell to the bed, probably embarrased for one reason or other.

"Really?" Mikey frowned and thought about it for a moment, "Huh...never realized that one."

Mouth decided that now was a good time to change the subject. "So, what's go you so wound up, anyway?"

"That **_stupid_** essay I missed last week." Mikey sighed again.

"Oh, that?" Mouth grinned, "That was **_easy_**!"

"Easy?" Mikey raised an eyebrow, questioning his friends sanity. "Whatever."

"No, seriously. I had it done three days ahead of time. It was assigned on Monday and due on Friday." he shrugged a little, "I was done on Tuesday."

"You've gotta be kiddin' me." When his best friend shook his head, Mikey shook his own head, "You're lucky, man. How do you do it?"

"I dunno." He shrugged haphazardly.

"I hate history with a fiery passion."

"Never claimed to like it, did I?" Clark grinnned. For once, he had a one-up on Mikey.

"How do you do so well, then?"

"I dunno, it's just...there." He tapped the side of his head with his index finger.

Mikey glanced over his shoulder at the paper, "Man...." He rubbed at his eyes.

"Let me do it." Clark said, getting up all of the sudden.

"What?" Mikey was a little shocked and even a little confused. Was he **_volounteering_** to do this paper?

"Let me do it." He repeated, standing next to Mikey now.

"No, I can't let you do this, Clark," Mikey started, though he was cut off.

"You've been on this for two days, both days staying up 'til midnight. I'll do it for you, just this once. And you, my friend, can sleep." Mouth took his friend's shoulders and guided him towards the bed, shoving him onto it.

"But--" Mikey protested.

"No." There was no questioning the tone in Clark's voice.

"Handwriting." Mikey said quickly, really not wanting to let Mouth do this.

"Copy." He said simply as he sat down and started writing.

Mikey was about to protest again when Clark spoke, "I owe it to you, Mikey." His voice was solemn and it kind of scared Mikey a little bit. It wasn't like Mouth to be so...depressing.

"What for?" Mikey asked, his curiousity peaked and confusion heavy in his voice.

"All the times you've let me stay here over the years." Mouth looked at Mikey over his shoulders, eyes wet. The tears would never spill, though. They never did. "Especially these last two years." He went back to the essay, kicking himself for upsetting himself. He had to try and let his mind focus on something else.

Mikey sighed. It was true. Last year and this year, Mouth's dad had gotten worse. All of Jason Devereaux's drunken abuse to his son was one thing Mikey didn't think he would ever really be able to understand. He had seen it once and that had been enough for him. He couldn't even begin to imagine **_living_** like that. "But that's no big deal..." Mike said quietly, regretting it once it came out of his mouth. It sounded different than he thought it would have.

Mouth slowly put the pen down and turned around. He had an absolutely shocked look on his face. "Do you really know what you've..." He paused for a moment, his brain trying to come up with the right word, "Saved me from?"

"Yeah, I know that your dad--"

"I think you might **_know_**, but I don't think you really **_understand it_**." He shook his head, "_No big **deal**_?" He looked at Mikey as if he were absolutely nuts. "Man, are you insane? You were **_there_**, Mikey, you **_saw_** it! And believe me when I say that was a **_light_** night for him!" He shook his head in disbelief again, "I just don't think you know **_how bad_** it really is."

"I don't under--I see." Mikey cut himself off, mid-word. "Even after all the years that you've been sneaking through my window and all the bruises and cuts I've seen you end up with, somehow, even after **_all of that_**, I **_still_** don't understand any of it, do I, Mouth?" Mikey paused and after a moment added, "I kinda wonder how much you really apperciate it all." Though he had said it more to himself, he knew that his friend had heard.

"That...that's..." Clark could barely speak due to the combination of the thought of loosing his safe haven and trying to choke the tears back at the same time. "That's not what I meant, Mikey. I just...I--" He leaned over on his knees and coughed a couple of times because of the force of the tears and trying to fight them. He closed his eyes and bit down on his lip. Finally, Mouth looked up at Mikey, "M-Maybe I should just...go." He stood up and shook his head, muttering to himself, "Should have known it would only last so long."

Mikey's eyes grew wide as he realized what he was letting his friend walk back into. He jumped up and caught his friends wrist, just as Mouth put his hand on the door. "No." Mikey said sharply.

Clark jerked his head towards his friend, not caring that he could see the tears now. "What?" His voice was just as sharp, with a hint of confusion.

Mikey was shaking his head, "No," he repeated, "I-I can't let you go back to that. Not now...not tonight." His light brown eyes were staring straight into Clark's dark ones. That's when Mikey could almost swear that he lost the ability to speak. He was more than a little shocked when he spoke again. "No," He managed softly.

Clark frowned, "Wait, I thought you were--" He shook his head and his free hand. That nervous, Ninja-taking-out habit he had. "Nevermind."

It was with that simple, half-gesture that the two boys realized that Mikey still had his hold on Mouth's wrist. They both made lame excuses four sounds that **_could_** have been words had they been given the proper chance. The quick nervousness that had surrounded them went on with Clark standing in front of Mikey's bedroom door, arms crossed over his chest and Mikey behind his friend with both of his hands shoved into his front jean pockets. Neither of the boys were even **_thinking_** about making eye contact. In the end, that had just been way too awkward.

Mouth sighed and finally broke the unbearable silence. If there was one thing that Mouth couldn't stand, it was long-going silence. "Thought I had finally lost the only place I've ever really been wanted." That hadn't sounded quite so strange in his head. "I mean, the only safe pla--" He sighed and looked at Mikey, "You know what I mean, right?"

"Yeah." Mikey smirked and turned around, walking back to his bed. As he did this, he sighed and removed his shirt.

Clark rolled his eyes at himself when he realized he was staring at Mikey. _I hate being seventeen and confused!_ He thought. After a moment of trying to clear his head, he sighed and went back to the essay he had promised for.

Mikey, seventeen, more toned than anyone could have predicted, was now shirtless and down to nothing but his boxers. "What are you doing?" He almost sounded as if he was complaining. He was laying back on his arms on the bed.

"Essay." Was the single-worded answer Mikey received.

"You **_don't_** have to do that, Mouth."

"I owe you." He said, then smirked and added, "**_And_**, I've already made up my mind." Mouth said, emphasizing on the word "and".

Mikey sighed. He knew that once his mind was set on something, there was no tearing Mouth from it. "Whatever, man." He shook his head.

"Sleep." Clark said sharply, glancing at Michael over his shoulder.

"Yes,** _mother_**," Mikey said sarcastically, grinning. However, he did finally collapse into the pillows in a way that only someone who had stayped up past midnight for two nights in a row to finish a missed history essay could even think about managing.

Barely an hour and a half later, Clark was blinking really hard and pressing his palms to his eyes. "Gotta finish this..." He muttered. He didn't have much left, a sentence or two probably. He nodded, "Can do this. No problem what-so-ever." And so he **_almost_** did just that. However, during his mini-break, Mouth couldn't help but make the mistake of glancing over his shoulder at Mikey. He soon found out that this was a **_bad_** idea. He **_also_** found out that he could not seem to remove his eyes from where they were appearently **_glued_**.

_Two more sentences and I'd be done, but **no!** I had to go and do something incredibly **stupid** like look at Mikey. **Wow** I can be dumb sometimes. I think it's a bad sign when you can actually manage to shock yourself with your sheer idiocy. Aahh, a word I didn't know I knew. Hmm...I wonder if it's bad if you didn't know you knew a word you didn't think you really knew? _ There was a moment of no thought whatsoever in Clark's brain. _Confused now, back to Mikey. ...No, wait...wasn't I trying to get my non-brain **away** from Mikey? Yeah, that's right, cause my non-brain, three o'clock in the morning and a very shirtless Mikey **don't **go too well together. If I **get** my non-brain on Mikey...I would guess **especially** a shirtless Mikey, my non-brain doesn't want to get **away** from the thought of the...shirtless...Mikey. And this is not a good thing because **then** my non-brain can't focus on the essay I'm supposed to be doing..._ A pause in the thought-process. _For Mikey. And **now** my non-brain is thinking about Mikey again. _Another pause and a roll of the eyes. _Dammit._

Clark eventually reached a point of focusing in his "non-brain's" thoughts. He could finally finnish the essay. Except for the tiny, little, miniscule problem with him falling asleep by the time he got to the point that he could actually focus.

Mikey jolted upright in his bed with the feeling that there was something important he should be doing rather than sleeping. _Oh right. That history paper that I'm not allowed to do even thought it's **mine**!_ Mike thought before glancing over a Mouth. He smirked when he saw that his friend was so very **_obviously_** asleep....and still sitting at the desk. He sighed and leaned against the wall behind his bed. _Too bad I'm so damned tight-lipped or he might find out one day..._ Mikey let his eyes fall for a moment before he glanced at Mouth again.

Mikey sighed and blinked a few times. There were certain moments that he wondered just what would happen if he ever actually managed to tell Clark. However, these thoughts were always quickly tossed aside and replaced by the fact that he was too secretive and shy to just say something like that. Mikey shook his head and with thoughts of his best friend in mind, soon enough, fell right back to sleep.

And so another day and night goes by and neither of the boys have revealed to each other how they really feel. Though they **_have_** given each other a few subtle hints, something tells **_this_** narrarator that the two seventeen year old boys know about each other's feelings. Or at least the thoughts of knowing are buried deep within the back of each of their minds. And I mean...really, _really **deep**_ inside their minds.

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End The Night of the Endless Essay  
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Notes - So...that was it. Whatcha think? Hope you drop a line if you took time to read it. And remember....I wrote this around 11 each night of the week that I was grounded....of course, 11 o'clock doesn't mean much, but that is sooo NOT the point! lol!

OH! and, for those of you that were expecting a kiss or something...sadly, I know, there was not a single one. I was honestly shocked. But I guess it wouldn't have been UNDERTONE that way, huh? And I really wanted to try an undertone fic for once.

Yeah...my sister read it (because I practically forced her...I ALWAYS have to force her. It's damn near annoying. grr-ness) and she was like, "I kinda like slash and stuff now, but I like it when they kiss! It's hot!" When I gave her my "single raised eyebrow" look, she was like, "Ok, so you know how it's hot to guys when two girls kiss or whatever in the moives? Well, I mean, it's the same way with slash, only the roles are reversed." And then she gave me this scary grin and I was like "Oh-kay..." And I left...because I was scared. I'm wondering if I should let her read any of my slash stuff anymore. What do you guys think? (Answer this if you read it in your review. I just wanna know what you people think giggle)

Later days,  
-PFB-


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